


Up Above

by Azazel



Series: Twinkle, Twinkle [4]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Boss/Employee Relationship, Conditioning, Corporal Punishment, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mild Dissociation, Power Imbalance, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azazel/pseuds/Azazel
Summary: With scandal comes punishment and self-refection.





	Up Above

**Author's Note:**

> *Please* be sure sure to take heed of the tags. This is a rather unpleasant chapter so be warned.

Everyone from interns to seasoned producers scatter as YG storms through the building on his way to the recording studio. They all know why he is in such an awful mood but no one dares to mention anything even remotely related to the latest scandal. Reaching his destination he slides open the door to reveal a lone figure, hunched over the desk. The only sound in the room comes from the scratch of pen on paper. YG stares at Jiyong scribbling in his notebook frantically while tens of thousands of dollars worth of computer equipment sits unused behind him. The door closes with a near-silent thud. Jiyong's brow is creased in a heavy frown as he jots down line after line then bites his bottom lip and scratches things out harshly. Bulky headphones cover his ears and block the sound from his surroundings. Looking at Jiyong like this, working diligently, YG cannot understand how he can possibly be the cause of so much trouble. Making his way around the desk YG stops a few feet away and raps his knuckles on the surface near Jiyong's elbow. 

Jiyong rips his headphones off and growls, “I told you not to interrupt- hyung!” He jumps to his feet, dropping his pen and headphones onto the desk with a clatter, and bows deeply. “I'm sorry hyung I didn't know it was you, I thought it was-, well it doesn't matter who I thought you were. I'm sorry.” He straightens up, both hands folded in front, but won't bring his eyes above YG's right shoulder. 

YG continues to stare for a moment before reaching down to unbuckle his belt. Jiyong glances at the movement quickly and swallows hard. After yanking his leather belt through the loops he folds it over and clutches the ends in a white-knuckled fist. Again, Jiyong follows the movement with his eyes but says nothing. He does, however, flinch ever so slightly when YG takes a step closer. He can guess what's coming and he thinks it's no less than he deserves so when YG orders him to drop his pants and bend over the desk he doesn't hesitate, he just does as he's been told. He doesn't spare a thought to embarrassment or propriety or how inappropriate it may be for his punishment to take place in such an easily accessible place. Instead, he quickly moves to open the fastenings of his jeans then shoves them down until they fall around his ankles and leans over the desk, bracing his palms on the cool surface.

YG's voice is tightly controlled as he slips two fingers under the waistband of Jiyong's underwear and commands, “These, too.” Jiyong scrambles to obey, grabbing the warm, soft silk in both hands and dragging it over his hips to join his jeans on the floor. “Count them out,” comes the guttural demand from behind him. There isn't time for Jiyong to respond before the first strike finds its mark. His breath rushes out, leaving his voice thready and high as he counts one. After the first ten his voice becomes rough and choked but he doesn't stop counting. At fifteen his knees begin to shake and he drops to his elbows. At seventeen he nearly screams as the thick band of leather snaps across the crease where thigh meets buttock, grazing the back of his scrotum and sending a searing line of agony up his spine. By twenty he is panting and shivering, doing his level best to remain upright. The backs of his legs from the knees up are crimson all the way to the top of his ass where the first strikes landed. Some of the welts are already beginning to turn black and blue. 

YG takes a step back, breathing heavily, still furious but somewhat mollified by Jiyong's submission. He discards his belt on the desk and reaches with both hands to survey the damage. Every patch of abused skin feels like it's on fire, swollen and hot to the touch. Jiyong pants harder, biting his lips to keep from making a sound as YG's fingertips gently trace every burning stripe, finally coming to rest with a palm on each of his ass cheeks. He hears YG's voice as if from a distance as he says, “I will not apologize for punishing you, but I will say it pains me to have to. I've never been so disappointed in you, Little Star. I thought you were better. I thought you *knew* better.” He releases one glute to grab a tube of lotion someone carelessly left behind, probably Bom if he had to guess. After popping the lid open he squirts some of the greasy liquid onto the index and middle fingers of his other hand. Snapping the lid shut he tosses the tube back onto the desk.

Jiyong can't stop the low mewl in the back of his throat from coming out as YG pushes both slick fingers past his tightly clenched sphincter. Muscles slowly relax by degrees as the fingers twist and prod at the soft tissue, it seems like purposely avoiding the one place that might make everything feel better. Jiyong picks up the thread of YG's rambling, one-sided conversation again at, “-you have the chance to prove you are not the root of all evil I think you are. Not just to me, though, to everyone. You let us all down, Little Star. Now it's time rise up. Make them see you. Make them forgive you. Beg if you have to.” The invading fingers slip out. Jiyong allows his head to sag between his arms, newly grown bangs brushing the desk. One look between his legs shows his body responding to the familiar touch of his boss and mentor even though his mind feels somewhat detached. He lets YG's acerbic words wash over him, filing them away to think about later. 

The rustle of cloth behind him attracts Jiyong's attention as does YG's hand coming to rest on his hip. He listens as YG spits and a second later something thick and unyielding is pressed against his slightly loosened hole. It takes his brain a fraction of a second that feels like forever to realize it's YG's cock poised to enter him. During the time it takes him process, YG's hips push forward while he pulls Jiyong back with an oddly gentle relentlessness. Jiyong gasps sharply, the raw skin off his fingertips dragging across the desktop as he clenches his hands into fists, when the head of YG's cock finally squeezes inside, swiftly followed by the shaft. Jiyong is positive since he can feel his own heartbeat in the muscles surrounding YG's erection YG must be able to feel it, too. He isn't given time to consider the stray thought for very long before YG begins to rock his hips. 

More words blur with the static in his mind as YG works up to a rhythm. He catches a few like “monster”, “worthless” and “unforgivable” before a tiny shift in the air derails his train of thought. Glancing at the door Jiyong sees the stunned expression on Youngbae's face. The look changes from stunned to horrified when Youngbae catches Jiyong's eye just as YG finally aims a thrust at Jiyong's prostate making him moan pathetically. Jiyong looks down and away immediately, unable to bear the weight of his best friend's judgement. When he looks up again Youngbae is gone and the door is closed. He gets distracted as YG's hand closes around his stiff prick, stroking quickly. His eyes water when YG goes still behind him and he feels wet heat flood his insides. YG's cock continues to pulse delicately as he grinds his hips against Jiyong's ass, his hand working to bring Jiyong off. The rush of orgasm takes his breath away as he squirts semen across the desk in milky streaks. 

Jiyong staggers and tries to stand up straight after YG pulls out with a grunt. He blinks rapidly in an attempt to dry the tears gathering in his eyes. The cooling cum dripping down the insides of his thighs doesn't help. YG's hand suddenly appears, reaching for his belt, and Jiyong goes still as stone. He doesn't breathe again until he hears the clink of YG buckling the belt. 

“Clean up and go home. Think about how you're going to fix this, Little Star. Because you *are* going to fix this,” YG says as he moves toward the door. “I didn't invest in you only to receive failure in return.” He leaves Jiyong silently staring at the mess he made on desk. His hands shake as he bends to pull up his pants and underwear. After getting his clothes back in place he reaches for a tub of antibacterial wipes and begins scrubbing his own cum off of the workspace. A quick once over of his notebook reveals it is untainted. He grabs his pen and meticulously inscribes the last two lines of the song he had been working on. He is closing the notebook when the door slides open again and Youngbae steps into the studio. 

One look at the person he thinks of as his soulmate and Jiyong's knees buckle, sending him crumbling to the floor. Youngbae is on his knees in front of Jiyong in a flash, grabbing his shoulders and firing off questions. 

“I'm sorry, Bae-ah,” Jiyong sobs quietly, curling his fingers in the loose cotton of Youngbae's designer t-shirt. “I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up. I'm sorry I ruined everything. I'm sorry I'm so disgusting.”

Youngbae gapes at him, “What are you talking about?”

Jiyong shakes his head, whispering, “The way you looked at me. After seeing me like that, how can you even stand to be in the same room with me?”

“No, Jiyong-ah, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I saw him hurting you and I didn't do anything to stop it,” Youngbae's hands clench tighter on Jiyong's shoulders making him wince. Suddenly he yanks Jiyong close, hugging him tightly and swearing at YG fiercely. 

Stunned, Jiyong hugs back until Youngbae starts muttering about going to YG's office and ripping him apart. He leans back and takes Youngbae's hands in his own and says calmly, “He wasn't hurting me. He was teaching me. Showing me how to be better. Better for you. Better for my family. Better for our members and our fans.”

Youngbae blinks and snaps his jaw shut to stop himself from saying anything else. He can tell by the look on Jiyong's face he believes what he is saying. His love and adoration for their CEO is still shining brightly enough to blot out YG’s sins. Youngbae knows this is a battle he won't win just like he knows, despite whatever else he may say, Jiyong needs him. Making the choice do nothing twists something inside Youngbae but he ignores it in favor of helping Jiyong to his feet. He wraps an arm around Jiyong's waist and takes some of his less than considerable weight. Jiyong's small, grateful smile eases Youngbae's guilt by a fraction. Together they hobble out of the building to Youngbae's car. 

The ride to Youngbae's apartment is mostly silent except for the radio softly playing. Jiyong shifts in his seat continuously trying to find a comfortable position. When they arrive Jiyong asks to use Youngbae's shower. Youngbae agrees quickly, mentally noting Jiyong smells like sex and germicide. Jiyong disappears into the bathroom and Youngbae starts to dig through his closet to find something that might fit Jiyong's slimmer, taller frame. All he can come up with is a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Intent on leaving the clothes on the counter, he opens the door to the bathroom and stops dead in his tracks. Jiyong has his back turned so Youngbae has a clear view of the extensive bruising on the backs of his legs and butt. He can also see the crusty trail of dried cum between Jiyong's legs. Taking a deep breath, he places his bundle of clothes near the sink and leaves the room. 

Jiyong finds Youngbae in the kitchen after his shower. His longer bangs are damp but drying quickly into soft waves. He reaches up and tucks them behind his ear as Youngbae hands him a steaming cup of tea and two white pills. His eyes flick to Youngbae's in unspoken question.

“Tylenol for… for the pain,” Youngbae clears his throat. “And tea to help you sleep.” Before Jiyong can finish opening his mouth to protest either statement Youngbae overrides him we a stern look, saying, “Don't tell me it doesn't hurt, I saw the bruises. And don't say you don't need sleep, either. I know you Kwon Jiyong. So I know you probably haven't slept in days.” Jiyong has the decency to look sheepish. Youngbae continues, “I need you. *We* need you. No matter what happened, or what YG says, we're still together and we're not going anywhere. So please, let me help you.”

Jiyong is blushing spectacularly, his bare cheeks showing the color layers of concealer and foundation usually hide. Without a word he swallows the pills with a gulp of tea, hissing at the burn. Youngbae smiles his famous smile and reaches out to take Jiyong's hand. It's not a gesture he uses often so the significance is not lost on either of them as he leads Jiyong to the living room. He takes a seat at one end of the couch, leaving the rest open for Jiyong to sprawl out, so he does, stretching his long legs across the cushions as far as he can while propping his head on Youngbae's thigh. Youngbae turns on the TV and flips through channels until he finds reruns of Running Man. Jiyong squirms for a few minutes before finally huffing and turning onto his side. Youngbae doesn't say anything. After their conversation in the studio he knows it's useless to bring up the reason Jiyong is so uncomfortable. Running his fingers through Jiyong's hair makes him go limp and within minutes he's out cold. Youngbae turns off the TV and snags the mug of cold tea, putting it on the coffee table then carefully maneuvers to gather Jiyong into his arms. Fury flares in him when Jiyong whimpers and flinches because Youngbae touched the bruises behind his knees. Lifting Jiyong from the low couch takes almost no effort, reminding Youngbae that he is probably skipping meals again. Whether it's on purpose or not is anyone's guess. 

His bed is already waiting, comforter turned down, so he lays Jiyong on his side as gently as he can even though at this point a full marching band could be performing in the room and Jiyong wouldn't wake up even to tell them to stop. Pulling the blanket over Jiyong, Youngbae notices little changes their years in the entertainment business have wrought in his best friend. Tiny worry lines near his eyes. The slight frown pulling his lips down. His bitten fingernails. Suddenly, Jiyong sniffles and reaches up to rub his nose and Youngbae is reminded of how young they still are. He tucks Jiyong in and goes to brush his teeth and change into something more comfortable to sleep in. By the time he comes back to his bed Jiyong has turned onto his other side and flung his hand out towards the unoccupied space beside him like he's beckoning for it to be filled. Youngbae sighs and shakes his head with a rueful smile, knowing full well he will end up with Jiyong wrapped around him like snake by morning. He climbs into bed and plops Jiyong's hand onto his chest, feeling his fingers reflexively curl into his shirt. As he drifts off his mind begins sifting through ideas about how to keep what happened that day from happening again, realizing the stubborn man next to him probably won't be of any help and might not appreciate the effort.

**Author's Note:**

> X-posted to aff. Also note I did not use the BDSM tag because I do not feel this qualifies despite certain thematic elements.


End file.
